


Latte

by tcourtois



Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcourtois/pseuds/tcourtois





	Latte

I walked up to the counter, flashing the Barista a sweet smile.

“Latte?” they asked.

I laughed softly, nodding. Cupping my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back a cough. It was November, dark, cold and I had the beginning of what felt like the flu. I didn’t want to cough all over the person making me coffee, or to be thrown out of the nice warm café which so happened to be one of my favourite places.

“You’re the girl from the bookstore next door aren’t you?” the girl asked, turning around to pour hot milk into my cup. She took a sharpie out from behind the till. “Need to know your name for the cup, I don’t remember that part.”

“Mayara.”

“Ooh that’s unusual around here. Very pretty though.” She peeked over my shoulder, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Don’t say anything but there is a really really cute guy in here.” She scribbled my name on the side of the paper cup.

“Where?” I asked, about to turn around.

“Don’t look! Don’t…he’s over by the window in the corner. He’s in here every day now, around the same time as you. He comes in just before I see you leave next door usually. He’s always on time, you’re sometimes late.”

She finished my latte and pushed a lid onto the cup before passing to me. “If I sit in my usual place how close will I be to him?” I asked quietly. There was no queue behind me when I came in but you never know when people can creep up behind you.

“Very.” She smiled. “I don’t feel like that will be a problem for either of you though. I get the feeling that you may be the reason he comes here. He doesn’t look like the type that enjoys £2.00 coffee. In fact he often just orders a hot chocolate.”

“This is just a normal day. I’ve had a hard time at work stock checking so. I don’t think I’m really in the mood to chat to strangers.” I shook my head and smiled apologetically. She probably had some romantic ideal or fantasy going on her mind right now about the two strangers she had imagined staring at each other. Not that I had been staring at him. I hadn’t noticed him at all, until she mentioned him, and I hadn’t even seen him yet.

I handed her the money for the drink and picked it up from off the counter, then turned and walked to my usual table on autopilot. It wasn’t until I got there that I noticed him, sat at my usual table. If he had really been in the last few days, he would know that.

“This is your table, isn’t it?” he laughed, looking up at me.

I frowned at him, putting my cup down in front of him. “You’re right it is, so why are you sat here exactly?”

“I’ve been watching you the last few days but haven’t been able to work myself up to come over and talk to you, until now.” He lifted his hot chocolate to his lips and took a sip from it.

“Why?” I asked sceptically. I was still stood beside the table. Any on lookers would have thought it odd that I wasn’t sat down. I was just stood awkwardly, no drink in my hand now because I had put it on the table, and one hand on my hip.

“Because you’re very interesting to me.”

I sat down opposite him and pulled my drink towards me.

“I am the least interesting person in the entire universe. I work in a book store. I spend all of my days alphabetising, indexing, and filing… how that can possibly interest you I don’t know. No offense but you don’t look like you’re the type who hangs out in book stores or with girls who work in book stores.”

“So what you are saying is that I am not your type?” he asked. He laughed softly under his breath, then looked sideways out of the window. I wondered if he felt insulted.

“I don’t think that I’m your type at all. Let me guess, you have a lot of Instagram followers and at least one of your friends is dating some couture obsessed wannabe model.” I rolled my eyes.

“Her name is Ann-Kathrin and she’s not that bad.” He took another sip of his drink. Then looked at me very seriously. “Book girl, I would like to get to know you better. Would you give me just one date?”

I looked down into the foam of my drink, pulling the lid off of the cup. I used one of the wooden stirrers, considering what he had asked.

“One date…and you have to woo me, and don’t turn up in some expensive supercar.” I laughed softly too, knowing that I was making silly demands but it was a little insane to me that a guy like him would be interest in plain old Mayara. We were worlds apart.

 

~

 

I heard the soft knocking on my door just as I secured the end of my fishtail braid. “Just a minute!” I called, rushing to the door. I grabbed my heels in one hand and slung my bag over my shoulder before pulling the door open.

“Hi.” I said breathlessly.

“Hi. You look beautiful.” He leant through the door, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Well thank you.” I blushed, tugging my heels on, the straps not really cooperating and sliding down.

“Girls and heels, just like girls and stupid expensive supercars. Don’t worry, I left mine at home and walked so we’re not going far. After you gave me your name and address I googled places nearby.” I watched as he blushed slightly, looking down at his feet.

“Well I will learn something then because I haven’t lived here for long.” I stepped out and linked arms with him.

 

~

He led me down a dimly light alley and for a minute I considered the possibility that I had invited a stranger to murder me. In reality he was leading me to this small Italian restaurant. I wondered how he had managed to find it on the internet because it looked like we had stepped through a portal to 1950s Rome, it didn’t look they knew what the internet was.

“This was recommended by a friend.”

“Oh, Ann-Kathrin?” I asked, as he pulled my chair out for me.

“No she doesn’t eat carbs.” He laughed, covering his mouth as he coughed. “Excuse me, I think I’m getting the flu.”

“I think that may be from me, sorry.” I looked apologetically at him before I picked up the menu and practically hid behind it, peeking over the top at him.

Admittedly, he was very cute. He looked like a fascinated child looking over the menu.

“This looks good.” I pointed at the item on the menu because there was no way I would be able to pronounce it, and he nodded in approval.

“How do I even ask for that? I’ll have to just point like you did.

The waitress came over and took our order. Marco copied me so he pointed at the menu and then held up two fingers. The girl laughed, she probably got this sort of thing all of the time.

 

~

The food had been delicious and Marco had been making me laugh all night. He was hopeless at keeping pasta on his fork and it was hilarious to see it fall off just before making it into his mouth, and to watch him trying slurp the spaghetti up before it could escape.

“You’re actually not that bad…” I said softly as he walked me up to my door.

“Will you consider doing this again?” he asked hopefully.

“I will consider it.”

“Can I have a good night kiss?” he smirked at me, and as if I needed to prove that I wasn’t the boring girl that I perceived myself to be, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, pressing my lips against his just once.

“Good night Marco. I’ll see you at the café tomorrow I’m sure.”


End file.
